The Swimming Pool Dress Dispute

[Bede735]

Part 1

Wow...! Just wow! He thought, as the young woman showered in the communal area. She was wearing, what appeared to be at first glance, a regular black bikini. Her breasts and vagina were fully covered by black triangles, but at the rear, there was nothing more than a thin string, which bisected the cheeks of her bottom.

The girl finished showering, turned towards him and smiled. ‘Do you like what you see?’
‘Paula, you look amazing!’
‘Mm. I’m guessing that’s why you chose a swimming pool for our first date. To see me in the flesh, so to speak?’
‘Something like that,’ he replied, feeling slightly sheepish.
‘You’re showing plenty yourself, Stephen, if I may remark.’

He’d picked out his skimpiest swim briefs for this occasion. They were black, unlined, with one-inch sides and very low-rise. He was tall and slim, and as far as he was concerned, they enhanced his assets.
‘I may show too much if I’m not careful. These trunks aren’t designed to cope with erections,’ he mused.
‘Ooh er!’ she exclaimed. ‘We’d better hit the water, fast. Can’t have you being expelled for indecency!’

Paula led the way to the pool area. This was probably not the smartest of ideas, as it gave him too much time to stare at her bare buttocks, wobbling with every stride she made. Fortunately, a cool shower was sufficient to keep things in check.
He emerged from the shower onto the poolside. It was an outdoor, heated pool, about 25 metres long, surrounded by beautiful countryside. He tried to visit it about three to four times a year, at weekends, during fine weather; which didn’t happen too often. Today was that occasion, as it was a gloriously hot and sunny August afternoon. The only problem with visiting in good weather, however, was that it brought out the crowds. When he spotted Paula, standing at the shallow end of the pool, there was just enough space to sidle in next to her.

‘There is nothing I’d like to do more than massage your bottom,’ he suggested, cheekily.
‘I would like that too, but that would contravene pool rules.’ She indicated towards a nearby board, which included the command ‘no petting’. The notice was fairly standard, with worthy advice such as ‘no running, bombing, drinking alcohol’ etc.
‘Do you always play by the rules?
‘Yes,’ she answered, flatly.
‘Oh. And here’s me thinking we could have a bit of fun . . .’
‘I’ve come here to swim, actually. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to do a couple of warm-up laps.’

She launched herself from the end and swam front crawl at a fairly impressive speed, despite having to weave in and out of children playing and other people ambling about.

He reflected on their chance encounter one Saturday afternoon, eight days ago. He had spotted her in the art gallery, sobbing uncontrollably. It was the fourth anniversary of her husband’s murder. A tragic event by any standards, but even more so when it occurred on their honeymoon, when she was just twenty years of age. Naturally, he had to comfort her, and this also entailed a visit to a pub. And in this venue, copious amounts of alcohol were consumed, which led to much passionate kissing and touching.
He realised she was everything he wanted in a woman. Her striking good looks were inherited from an English father and Thai mother. On that first encounter, she was dressed in tight jeans and a black tank top, which accentuated her lithe, tall body (she was about 5 feet 8 inches in height). She held a PhD in archaeology, and success in that field had made her into a millionaire. That ensured she could be flexible in her work. At the moment, she was a part-time librarian until something better came along.
There were some drawbacks, though. She had a three-year-old son from her deceased husband. Stephen had never been a father before and wasn’t sure if he could handle someone else’s child. But maybe it was time to settle down? He was thirty-one years old, living alone in a big house. And then there was the problem of finding time to meet her. Her father and stepmother (her natural mother was deceased) lived in a large, country house not far from this swimming complex, and Paula also lived there. Unfortunately, that was thirty miles away from his home, and he also worked long hours as a surgeon.

‘I’m sorry about before. I was a little brusque.’ Paula had finished her warm-up and had resumed her previous position next to him.
‘Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s understandable, given what you’ve been through.’
She nodded slightly to acknowledge his statement. ‘I have to start putting it behind me at some point.’ She hesitated before confessing, ‘Stephen, I want to become romantically involved with you. That’s if you want me.’
‘I do. Very much.’
Her eyes lit up and she kissed him lightly on the cheek. ‘Now how about after the swim, you meet my family, and we can have coffee and cake and—’
‘Madam, would you care to step out of the pool?’